


eventually, finally

by architecture_in_f1ll0ry



Series: breaking point [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, M/M, but also soft, korra and kuvira are infatuated and borderline inappropriate in public, more gratuitous flirting, my rarepair ships agendas continue apace, pwp and proud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26077699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/architecture_in_f1ll0ry/pseuds/architecture_in_f1ll0ry
Summary: It's been two long weeks since Korra and Kuvira have seen each other in Zaofu. What's a few more hours?
Relationships: Bolin/Varrick, Iroh II/Asami Sato, Korra/Kuvira (Avatar), Mako/Prince Wu (Avatar)
Series: breaking point [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815853
Comments: 12
Kudos: 126





	eventually, finally

**Author's Note:**

> we’ve made it to the end (for now...). I appreciate you all for your lovely feedback and indulging me in this extremely plotless smut adventure. korvira forever.
> 
> again, I've made canon my plaything here. thanks.
> 
> ~
> 
> because I just have to be Like That, here is my playlist for this series:
> 
> wildfire - sbtrkt, little dragon  
> beggin for thread - banks  
> warm water (snakehips remix) - banks, snakehips  
> take me apart - kelela  
> rewind - kelela  
> human - sevdaliza  
> warm water - banks  
> drunk in love (feat. jay-z) - beyoncé  
> girl (feat. kaytranada) - the internet, kaytranada  
> broken clocks - sza  
> the wheel - sohn  
> ache - fka twigs  
> reading in bed - emily haines & the soft skeleton  
> infinity - the xx  
> brain - banks  
> special affair - the internet  
> two weeks - fka twigs  
> how's that - fka twigs  
> girlfriend - nao  
> can I see it - lion babe, bilal  
> get to know ya - nao, kaytranada  
> on the sly - metric  
> bad blood - nao  
> desperado - rihanna  
> treat me like fire - lion babe  
> sound of rain - solange  
> pussy is mine - miguel  
> my favorite book - stars  
> precious possession - anna wise

_“Avatar Korra, how is General Kuvira doing?”_

_“Avatar Korra! Bolin! Over here!”_

_“Avatar, is it true you were in Zaofu with General Kuv—?”_

When the door swings shut behind them, Korra exhales slowly, shutting her eyes for a moment. Maybe her trip wasn’t as inconspicuous as she thought. Bolin grasps her shoulder comfortingly, giving her a look that hinges between concern and amusement. 

“Fame is a fickle beast,” he offers sagely, as the hostess arrives to greet them, leading them to their normal table, tucked away from the typically busy dining room. Despite their increasingly hectic schedules, Korra and Bolin have always managed to maintain their monthly dinner dates, in which they order a truly irresponsible quantity of appetizers and share them all, swapping news and gossip. “They’ll find something else to latch onto soon enough,” he reassures her grimly, nodding at the waitress as she sets down menus, a pitcher of water. 

“Hope springs eternal,” Korra mumbles, then snorts. “Can you believe some reporter actually asked me if I testified at Kuvira’s trial because I was secretly in love with her?”

“Didn’t you?” Bolin laughs when Korra flicks her fingers, sending a gust of air at his napkin, smirking when it flies up to cover his face. “That wasn’t a no!”

“Fuck off, I was still with Asami back then.”

“I joke, I joke. Anyway, I wasn’t blowing smoke up your ass, I have it on pretty good authority the gossip mill will be preoccupied soon enough.” He’s still wearing his trademark crooked grin, but it’s a little off, like he’s trying to pin into place, finding it won’t quite stick. Korra tilts her head at him in question.

“Good evening,” a waiter says pleasantly, before she can respond. “Avatar Korra, Bolin. An honor, as always. The usual?”

“You know it,” Korra responds. “Any specials?”

“Tigercrab rangoon to your fancy?”

“Oh hell yeah, make it double,” Bolin says with feeling, giving a salute as the waiter nods, collecting their menus. When they’re alone again, he slams his palms against the table, nodding slowly, as if gathering himself. 

Korra just watches him, an eyebrow raised. “You’re starting to freak me out, Bolin. Spill.”

“I’m trying to figure out...how to say this.” He still hasn’t looked up at her, and she nearly bursts out laughing at the puzzled set of his brow.

“Did you kill someone?” she lowers her voice, leaning closer. “Bolin, where is the body?”

“Me and Varrick—uh,” Bolin glances hesitantly up at her, face coloring, and Korra blinks. “We’re, kind of.”

Korra raises her chin in stunned suspicion, squinting, waiting for him to say more. When he doesn’t, she releases a small, incredulous laugh, then chews the inside of her cheek. “You and Varrick are kind of _what._ ”

“I don’t know!” he bursts out, the pink of his cheeks deepening into red, and winces at Korra’s half-gasp, half-giggle that erupts out of her without warning. “Keep it down, will you.”

_“Wait!_ Wait. Wait wait wait. Bolin.”

Bolin plants his elbows on the tabletop, rubbing his fists into his temples. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“I have...so many questions.”

“So do I.”

“When? How? How long? Oh my god? _Varrick?”_

“Shhhhhh!” Bolin glances wildly around, remembers they’re somewhat sequestered, releases an explosive, relieved sigh. “Yeah, look, I don’t know! It just kind of...we’re together all the time, working on this movie, and it was my first time co-producing, and...” He shakes his head and a resigned, fond smile touches his lips. “I mean, the man is brilliant! I’ve been learning a lot from him, but also, like, really _understands_ my vision? I thought working with him in a new capacity would be awful, but it’s, surprisingly, seamless?”

“Yeah, because you’re both certifiable,” Korra laughs, head still reeling. “Tell me more. Spare no detail.” She pauses, lifts one hand in concession. “Spare some details.”

Bolin ignores this, lost in his meandering justifications. “I swear, I didn’t mean to—I mean, he’s always been friendly, so I just thought he was...being nice? Always inviting me places and doing things for me and, like, ordering us lunch...he always gets me that weird crunchy noodly thing from Guan’s, with that spicy sauce? You know the one?”

Korra sighs, clamping down a laugh. Well, that’ll do it. “That’s actually pretty sweet. Wow, Bolin, it sounds like he likes you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he responds, wounded. Their tigercrab arrives, which mollifies him slightly.

“So you’re, what, together?” Korra asks with a full mouth. Asami and Mako would fuss endlessly at her for her occasionally poor table manners, but Bolin doesn’t give a shit; is worse, in fact. 

“Do these titles matter? Are you and _Kuvira_ together?”

Korra splutters, feeling the all-encompassing body tingle that erupts anytime someone mentions her these days, embarrassingly accompanied by a deep blush. “I don’t know! And what does that have to do with—”

“First of all,” Bolin interrupts, pointing a crispy dumpling in her direction and waving it, _“that_ was very cute. But yeah, I, I don’t know. But I don’t feel like I can really _ask_ at this point?”

Korra wills herself calm, taking a fortifying sip of water. This entire conversation feels too infantile and tawdry to actually think of in conjunction with Kuvira, yet the idea—the title—makes Korra feel a little bit like Bum-Ju’s wings whenever it sees Bumi. “What do you like about him?”

“What do I _like_ about him.” Bolin chuckles, and the way he immediately casts his eyes to the table with a soft grin. She’s seen him look like this before, and it’s a look that precedes very outsize displays of devotion. The inevitable media scrutiny, he’s right about that one. “Well, he’s a mad genius. Once he has an idea he’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen, the more unlikely, the better.” Then he stops, levels a careful glance at her before gathering up another bite. “Your turn.”

“My turn what?” she feigns. “Wait, so Mako knows?”

“Of course.”

“What did he say?”

Bolin continues chewing, nodding, covering his mouth with a fist as he chokes out a laugh. “I’ve never seen him laugh so hard. I think he’s still processing. Apparently, Wu had suspicions.”

Korra can’t help but feel a bit offended about Wu finding out before her, but that’s partner privilege for you. “Yeah, I bet.”

“Anyway, now you know! And you’re ignoring my question,” Bolin needles, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. _“How_ long has it been since Zaofu?”

“Fifteen days.” Korra realizes a moment before the words leave her mouth that ‘two weeks’ is the more chill way to convey this, but it’s too late. She blinks up at Bolin in silent warning before looking back down at her plate, onto which she scoops more rice. “Long ones.”

Bolin just smiles, watching Korra busy herself with getting seconds. “What’s she like? Beneath all the, you know.” He tightens his jaw and furrows his brow in an unfairly accurate impression of Kuvira’s typical resting face, which Korra unsuccessfully attempts not to laugh at.

“She’s still pretty intense,” she says after a few seconds of deliberation, resting her cheek in her palm, drumming her fingertips against her temple thoughtfully. “But also kind of sensitive?” She remembers Kuvira's hastily written note, which now lives in the center of her copy of _A Night Among Thieves_ , which she’d finally finished reading on her way back from Air Temple Island. “And kind of, sweet? I’m still figuring her out, honestly.”

“Seems like a tough nut to crack.”

“That’s kind of what makes it fun.” Korra feels her cheeks warm, looks up to see Bolin’s gaze flickering away, settling on nothing, his lips curling into a knowing, unbidden smile.

“I get what you mean.”

//

When Kuvira arrives at the theater, Korra has already made it halfway up the red carpet, making the obligatory small talk and answering questions, navigating the press circuit and queue of rowdy fans with what she hopes is an appropriate balance of friendliness and candor. Kuvira is in another suit, this one a slim slate grey with a matching shirt and tie, her hair left loose and tumbling over one shoulder in loose waves. Korra watches as she scans the crowd, then is forced to snap her attention to a nearby interviewer, who immediately shoves a microphone into her face, his mouth moving quickly, excitedly. She completely misses what he says, but another, louder photographer saves her from asking for him to repeat it.

_“Avatar! Miss Sato! Over here!”_

Asami, between poses, glances over at Korra questioningly, then follows the line of her gaze and grins, pitching her voice low as she tilts her head in Korra’s direction. “I’ll give it to her, the woman can wear a suit.”

Korra nods in agreement, mouth dry. This is a much more public place for their reunion than she’d envisioned or hoped for, but there was nothing she could do about that now. At that moment Kuvira looks up from her conversation, her eyes catching Korra’s, and her face softens slightly, even as she continues speaking to whoever’s captured her attention. A few perceptive photographers swing their attention over to Kuvira and then back to Korra, a sudden tumult rising.

“Five minutes to showtime!” one of Varrick’s assistants calls from the doorway. Mako and Wu enter the grand, gold-inlaid double doors, and Asami starts to follow, then turns to Korra.

“Save you two a seat,” she promises, and Korra mouths her thanks with a grateful smile. When she’s gone, Korra turns back to find Kuvira, but she’s suddenly right there, approaching Korra with an affectionate gleam in her eyes, though her smile is slight, characteristically reserved beneath the column of flashing lights. Korra goes in for a chaste one-armed hug that’s nonetheless still intimate enough to leave her short of breath as she inhales, brushing her lips along Kuvira’s cheek. 

“Hi, General.”

Kuvira’s face slackens for a brief second as the embrace brings her hand into contact with Korra’s bare back—her dress is simple, long, all black and high-collared, but completely backless, more skin than she usually shows. And it was the correct choice, if the smothered heat in Kuvira’s expression when she pulls away is anything to go by. “Evening, Avatar.”

_“Over here, can we see a smile from the new couple?”_

_“Are you two officially together now?”_

“Shall we?” Korra asks quietly, and Kuvira nods, and soon they’re stepping past the threshold of the theater and into the blessed quiet, following the usher to their seats. Asami looks up with a grin and gives Kuvira a friendly wave as they sit down.

“Kuvira, good to see you.”

“You too, Asami.” The lights are already going down, but Korra wonders if maybe that isn’t a good thing, because she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed at the reality of Kuvira sitting right beside her after the past two weeks of separation, with only her memories of Zaofu to tide her over. Korra looks over and catches her eyes at the same time Kuvira does, and then glances down when a hand slides onto her knee, innocent enough, though the sensation still pulls a slow shiver from her. Kuvira leans in to speak softly into Korra’s ear. “You weren’t kidding about the dress.”

Korra smirks, pulling away just enough to admire the sharp curve of Kuvira’s jaw, trying not to stare too intensely at her lips, but it’s difficult. “I try not to say things I don’t mean.” Her hand finds Kuvira’s on her leg, and she watches Kuvira bite her lip when their fingers tightly intertwine. And then the screen flashes—the mover is starting, to appreciative, anticipatory applause—and Korra indulges herself one last time in Kuvira’s particular spicy, woody scent, taking a chance to lean in and drag the tip of her nose along the soft skin in front of Kuvira's ear, reveling in the feel of those thick, soft strands of hair against her cheek, lips splitting into a plaintive grin at Kuvira’s very quiet forbidding hum.

“Korra…”

“I know.” She pulls away, and their eyes meet again in the semi-dark, Kuvira’s laden with promise. Korra swallows, inwardly bemoaning the long night ahead, though there’s an accompanying flutter of anticipation in her gut, the slow assurance of mutual torture, the sweetest kind. Being this close to Kuvira is a much-needed shock to the system: an undeniable, visceral embodiment of the longing she’d felt for the past two weeks, rendering her daydreams and fantasies laughably flat and grey in comparison to the reality of this, their bodies this close, again, their hands locked together.

Surprisingly, even with Kuvira right beside her, the mover is intriguing enough to capture and hold her attention. It’s a clear departure from Varrick’s typical fare; Nuktuk’s story in this installment is darker, but subtler, yet shot through with absurd, experimental humor that clearly belays the strengths of a new and exciting creative collaboration, a far cry from the bombastic, yet simplistic watered-down propagandist tropes these films had come to be known for. Korra steals glances at Kuvira at a few points, who’s totally enraptured, even laughing out loud a few times, a sound that Korra missed dearly—however embarrassing it feels to admit that to herself.

When Kuvira looks over before Korra is able to avert her eyes, a soft smile subsuming her laughter, Korra flushes and bites her lip, turning back to the screen. From her peripheral vision, she sees Kuvira watch her a moment longer before doing the same.

//

Most of the crowd has dissipated by the time the mover is over, though a few hopefuls have stuck around, many still bearing signs that declare their love for Bolin and/or Nuktuk. They perk up when the doors re-open, and a few photographers emerge from the shadows as well, but thankfully, Varrick has made sure the valets were prepped for their departure, and everyone is able to make a relatively speedy exit before they all reconvene at Marook’s, an upscale restaurant across town. 

It’s been closed to the public for the night, so their motley crew is able to relax in the cushy, dimly lit space. Servers wind their way between the milling crowd, delivering fizzing cocktails and tall glasses of sweating beer; bearing trays of miniature hors d’oeuvres, toothpicks, and napkins. It’s certainly a good deal more casual glamour than Korra is accustomed to, but she can’t deny it’s nice to be doted on a bit as they celebrate Bolin—and Varrick’s—big night. Kuvira’s presence at her side is both exhilarating and a comfort; it’s hard not to feel pressured into being sure she has a good time, though Korra knows if Kuvira catches wind of her thoughts she’ll bristle. 

She certainly doesn’t look like she’s particularly out of her depth, Korra muses, as she tunes into Kuvira’s conversation with Wu and Mako.

“—difficult to deal with, I’ve heard, so I’m glad to know things were smooth,” Wu is saying amiably, as Mako’s eyes shift curiously between him and Kuvira, and then over to Korra, raising his eyebrows, quietly taking stock. 

“They’re tough negotiators, but many of the stereotypes are unfounded,” Kuvira returns pleasantly. “Their way of life isn’t easy; many outsiders are quick to trade ignorance with disrespect.”

“Ever the diplomat,” Wu says with a wink, then slides an arm around Mako’s waist, taking a sip of his drink. “Anyway, enough politics! How long are you in Republic City?”

“Octopus fritters?” a server cuts in, brandishing a small tray. Mako and Wu move in to take a few, and Korra glances over at Kuvira, just in time to notice her subtle, fleeting shudder, the way her mouth turns slightly down at the corners. 

“Not a fan?” she confirms, amused, and Kuvira shakes her head.

“Thank you,” she says politely to the server, who inclines his head and steps away. “I’ll be here for five days.”

“So fast!” Wu tilts his head sorrowfully in Korra’s direction. “Long distance, am I right? The worst!”

“Well,” Korra hedges, bumping Kuvira gently with her elbow. “We manage.” It’s a little weird, because of course it was going to be, Kuvira’s initial integration into her group of friends—not that Korra had doubts about their ability to get along, but it’s still all so new, so precarious. She’s loath for anything—any outside influences, no matter how innocuous—to threaten the little bubble of paradise they’ve established so far. The look Kuvira sends back is knowing and fond, and Korra’s cheeks warm when a hand settles on her back, drawing her gently closer.

Mako allows a small smile as his gaze moves between them. “Well, while you’re in town we should definitely hang out. There’s a—”

Wu interrupts with a delighted gasp. “A double date! Wow, imagine that. Who would have thought? Not me!”

They all share a somewhat uneasy laugh, but the ridiculousness of the situation lessens the tension. Korra’s chuckles are just subsiding as her eyes alight on Asami, who’s across the room, deep in conversation with Iroh II, the two of them standing...very close together. Asami's smile is dazzling as Iroh says something into her ear, and his gaze on her remains fixed and undeniably smitten as someone else momentarily steals her attention. Huh. 

“Oooh, there’s a great place we all love, Kuvira, it’s kind of small and divey, but they have the best—”

“Babe, uh,” Mako buts in, his lips twitching, giving Wu a significant look. “If you’re talking about Jin’s, she’s been there.” Kuvira hides her smile by taking sip of her drink while Korra just tilts her head, nodding slowly and ruefully at Wu, whose apologetic grin can’t decide if it wants to be sincere or not.

“Riiiiight! Right. _How_ could I forget—”

“If I could have everyone’s attention!” Zhu Li calls, pinging a fork against her champagne glass, a laugh in her voice as she calls everyone to attention, standing on a chair in the center of the room. It takes a few tries for the assembled mass to settle, the conversations grown increasingly rowdy with the generous pours and excitement of the night. “Thank you. I just want to say congratulations to my best friend and co-director, Varrick. We’ve done it again, somehow, and you only threatened to burn down the studio twice this time.” She’s interrupted by laughter from the crowd, and pauses, raising an eyebrow. “That wasn’t a joke.”

“Finish the thing, Zhu Li!”

“And to Bolin, on his first production credit,” she continues, to thunderous applause and cheers. Bolin grins widely, flushes pink when Varrick pulls him in to plant a noisy kiss on his cheek. From across the room, Asami catches Korra’s eye and raises an amused eyebrow. “I always knew you had it in you, but I’m happy that now the whole world knows it too.” 

“I should go insult my baby brother for old times’ sake, bring him back down to size,” Mako jokes as the crowd cheers again, raising their glasses as Zhu Li finishes. He inclines his head at Korra, then Kuvira, before he and Wu make their way over to Bolin and Varrick’s now very crowded table, leaving them finally—blessedly—alone.

Korra turns to Kuvira just as Kuvira is finishing her drink, holding her gaze playfully until she lowers her glass, eyes aglow with fond suspicion. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Kuvira raises her eyebrows in gentle skepticism, nodding her thanks to a waiter who swoops in unobtrusively to collect her empty glass. “Nothing, really?”

“Would you like another?”

Kuvira’s eyes skate over to Korra, who shrugs. “Yes, thank you.” 

“Me too, please.” Korra bites her lip against a laugh but doesn’t shift her gaze as the server nods and leaves. Kuvira plays along, her expression schooled into effortless seriousness. It’s been a long time since she felt this _giddy,_ and it’s a little embarrassing, but proving difficult to get a handle on. Being forced to stay on her best behavior for so long only adds to the fun of it, and the mischievous gleam in Kuvira's eyes does not help, at all.

“How did you put it?” Kuvira asks, stepping a bit closer to Korra, sliding her hands into her pockets. “Are you _enjoying_ yourself, Korra?”

Korra’s face burns at the unexpected flash of memory, at the anticipation of what's to come. “I really am, actually.” 

//

The night continues in a bright, hazy rush: cycling in and out of conversations, raising another toast, followed by another, playing into their public persona with gradually decreasing levels of propriety. Korra knows that they need to rein it in, is wholly aware of the occasional bemused side eye when she leans in to bite Kuvira’s ear or when Kuvira holds her gaze for a couple seconds too long in the middle of a discussion with other people—but the thing is, she doesn’t really care. 

Varrick’s stories are always hilarious—often more so in delivery than in content—but it’s hard for Korra to keep a firm grasp on the narrative with the way Kuvira’s fingers drift idly up her back in neat, smooth lines. It’s both soothing and softly, cruelly _electric,_ and Korra’s jaw clenches as she waits, waits, and finally whirls to press her lips to Kuvira’s ear when everyone around them erupts into laughter at the story’s conclusion. “You’re evil.”

“It’s been said.” Kuvira gives Korra a small, cocky smile when she pulls away to look at her, spreading her hand along Korra’s lower back. By now the heady accumulation of slow touches over the past few hours has Korra’s nerves almost completely on edge, which is just not ideal for their current setting. And then someone says Korra’s name and they have to drift gently out of their private orbit once again, though remaining anchored by touch.

//

“Well _hello,_ stranger!” Korra says wonderingly at Asami as they meet at the bar, grinning at Asami’s immediately flushed cheeks. “How is _your_ night going?”

“Okay, I had a, like, five second crush on him years ago. This is bizarre.” Asami shoots Korra a slightly dazed look, biting her lip. “He’s a little cheesy, but it’s funny? And he looks...like that.”

“He does look like that.”

“Hmm.” Asami gives a short, wondering sigh, then drags her eyes from across the room and pins Korra beneath her smug gaze. “And _you!_ Miss PDA. Can never say anything about Mako and Wu again. Filthy hypocrite.”

Korra rolls her eyes and shrugs, embarrassed, saying without thinking, “Yeah, well, you knew that already.” It’s more blunt than she’d intended, and Asami gives a funny little chuckle while she nods in agreement, and it's fine.

“Well, true. My point stands.” Asami tilts her head at Korra, her smiling growing indulgent. “You two—it’s very cute. You look happy.”

//

Soon there’s talk of live music happening somewhere nearby—something about an outdoor patio and killer view of the city, and as lovely as it sounds, Korra is at the end of her rope. 

“See you there?” Bolin asks them, and Korra turns to Kuvira, whose expression is unreadable until she leans in to whisper into Korra’s ear.

“Let’s do something else.”

“Sorry, we’re begging off for the night,” Korra says, her voice only wobbling a little bit at the very end. It’s been indecent for some time now, feeling as keyed up as she does, in such mixed company. Bolin wears a teasing smirk as they hug their goodbyes, but that’s fine. It’s a small eternity until they’ve completed the farewell rounds and make it outside of the building, the quiet and the cool night air a relief after the busy night. But there are plenty of people on the sidewalk, still preventing them from saying a proper hello, and so getting home is the true objective now. Kuvira is so solid and warm at her side, her heated gaze turning Korra’s insides into a glorious, tangled mess. 

“That was fun,” Korra says, because she has to say something, anything to distract from the uneven thud of her heart as they stand together at the curb, waiting for the driver to approach. Kuvira looks over at her, a small gust of wind lifting her hair from her shoulders as she nods thoughtfully. The cool air feels thick and weighted, as if bracing for a storm.

“I enjoyed it more than I thought I would,” she admits, as the glow of headlights momentarily washes over them. “Your friends are interesting.”

“Interesting?” Korra laughs as they get into the backseat. Kuvira’s profile is smirking, her gaze concentrated out of the opposite window. “Well, this whole situation is _interesting._ To be honest.”

“Agreed.” The next ten minutes are filled with molten silence—not that they aren’t speaking, exchanging perfectly normal observations of the night, but Korra can barely concentrate above the roar of blood in her ears, the alcohol-spurred looseness in her veins that makes Kuvira’s presence beside her feel like a homing pin. Their backs of their hands meet between them, fingers beginning a slow brush fire as they rub together, and by the time they make it up to Korra’s front door, Korra fumbling to unlock it, they’ve lost all semblance of patience. Korra isn’t sure where she drops the keys once they’re inside, or how she makes it out of her shoes under the hailstorm of desperate, drugging kisses, Kuvira’s hands framing her jaw, pressing her against the door they’d just slammed shut. Korra laughs a little into Kuvira’s mouth as her hands come up to unbutton her suit jacket.

“So, this is my place.”

“It’s nice,” Kuvira murmurs with a tiny grin, trapping Korra’s lower lip between her teeth and tugging it lightly, leaning back in to swallow a low moan. Her hands are everywhere, following the curves of Korra’s dress, framing her waist, fingers digging into soft skin. “This dress.” The words are spoken in a low growl. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“Do what?” Korra finally finds the strength to push off the door, walking Kuvira slowly backward through the living room, directing her to her bedroom. But Kuvira isn’t that patient: she just blinks at Korra and then glances down and to her right, at a squashy green chair Korra had impulse bought from a hidden boutique market during her last trip to Ba Sing Se. Kuvira clamps a hand on her shoulder and spins her around, exerting pressure on the top of Korra’s spine until she’s bent and leaning against the low chair, turning her head to try and see what Kuvira’s planning. Her heart and stomach flutter at the sheer _want_ in Kuvira’s expression as she stares down at the muscles shifting in Korra’s back, and then Korra gasps when soft lips meet the sensitive skin of her right shoulder blade, dragging along the jut of bone, into the divot of her spine, and then over to her left, adding small bites and licks along the way. “Oh. No, that wasn’t on purpose. But, _ahh,_ good to know.”

“Mmm.” Kuvira just presses her face into Korra’s skin, hands settling on her waist, then beginning to slowly drag up the material of her dress, pressing one more kiss to the center of Korra’s back before kneeling down, peeling Korra’s panties down and off, tapping the inside of a thigh. “Wider.”

Korra’s head spins at the quiet command but all she can do is obey, widening her stance, fingers clenching in the thick material of the seat as Kuvira raises her hips up higher and then uses her thumbs to spread her open, her tongue lapping up Korra’s slick sex. It’s such a delicious shock that there is absolutely nothing she can do to prevent a shuddery moan from escaping her lips, so she decides not to care when Kuvira makes her do it again and again, her tongue hot and quick and wet and clever, working at Korra until she’s whining steadily into the cushioned seat, breaths choppy. _“Ooohhh_ sh—oh, fuck, f—!”

Kuvira pulls away as her fingers find Korra’s entrance, stroking gently. She stands and leans over Korra to press a kiss to her shoulder as she pushes them slowly in, twisting and sliding them out, repeating the motion, breaths coming hot against Korra’s skin. “I’ve been imagining this all night,” she admits quietly, biting Korra’s neck, withdrawing only to push a third finger in on her next thrust, moaning in satisfaction at the wetness coating her hand. “Guess I wasn’t alone.”

Korra laughs breathlessly, shaking her head, and then her laughter stutters into another groan when Kuvira increases her pace. “Definitely...not. I really wanted— _god,_ Kuvira!”

“Yeah.” Kuvira is still completely clothed, and Korra does still _technically_ have her dress on, even if it is pushed up and out of the way as Kuvira fucks her until her knees feel like they’re in danger of giving out. Kuvira’s fingers are long and perfectly curved, slipping out every so often to brush the pads of her soaked fingertips along Korra’s lips, each movement languorous and deliberate. “Korra,” Kuvira breathes, licking the skin of her shoulder in one moment, digging her teeth in gently in the next. “Missed this.” Her fingers are just making small, firm circles against Korra’s clit now, and she smiles as Korra’s cries climb higher and higher. “Missed you.”

“Fuck, I. Me too, I missed you too, a lot. _Don’t_ stop that,” Korra huffs, craning her neck backward to try and look at Kuvira, biting her lip as she feels the heat at her core begin to crackle and catch, sparking a slow sweeping flame. She gasps and whines as she shoves her hips back to increase the pressure, seeking more, and Kuvira steadies her with one hand still playing with her nub, the other spearing her slowly once more with two ruthlessly seeking fingers, pressing every last button just right. “FUCK, I’m—!”

Kuvira is relentless, bringing Korra to her peak a second and third time before finally withdrawing and turning her around, dragging her slick fingers down Korra’s lips with a contented hum, further down to grab her chin and pull her in for a devouring kiss. 

Eventually, they make it to the bedroom.

//

“Okay, now what’s this one?” Korra asks, tracing a finger across a two inch long scar along Kuvira’s side, bracing her hand on her palm, elbow pressed into the mattress beside Kuvira’s hip. They’re naked, pleasantly exhausted, and comparing scars. When Kuvira looks down and twists to see which one Korra’s referring to, a sudden clap of thunder startles them both. 

“Training accident when I was...fourteen? I was too sloppy, and got sliced by a mean sheet of metal. There was a lot of blood.” Kuvira smirks in recollection, her eyes far away as she combs careful fingers through Korra’s hair. “Baatar almost passed out. No, he _did_ pass out.”

Korra sits up further, brows narrowed in curiosity. Kuvira takes in her expression, her own growing wary. “What.”

“What was the _deal_ with you two?” Korra asks conspiratorially. “You and Baatar.”

Kuvira hesitates, and they both listen to the sound of the rain drumming against the windows for a few seconds. “He confessed some...strong feelings for me when we were teenagers. I didn’t say much in response, but I guess they never went away. As we got older, he became more...infatuated, more devoted. I felt the same way, to an extent. He was both easy and hard to love.”

“So...it didn't feel wrong, with him basically being your brother?”

Kuvira laughs. "I was never really a part of that family. But I think some part of him...got off on that, if I’m being honest. I won’t lie, I also enjoyed watching Su burst a few blood vessels every time she saw us together.”

Korra shakes her head with a disbelieving grin, sliding upwards, walking two fingers up the middle of Kuvira’s chest, resisting the urge to bury her face again between her breasts. “You dirty, dirty children.”

Kuvira shrugs, unrepentant. “Anyway, he never really forgave me for sending him back to Zaofu when I did. I don’t blame him. Though that’s the only reason Su agreed to a lesser sentence, I’m sure, so I don’t completely regret it.”

“Hm. That makes sense.” Korra shifts to her side, propping her head up in her palm, gazing down at Kuvira with a small smile. Kuvira looks over at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Now what?”

“I just like how you look in my bed.” It’s true: Kuvira’s pale skin and long, dark hair is nothing short of arresting against Korra’s red sheets, but also strangely comforting even in its newness. Kuvira just watches her as Korra moves in closer, dragging a hand down her belly to insinuate between her legs, stroking slowly. “I like the sounds you make in my bed, too.”

Kuvira inhales sharply when Korra’s index finger slides in and then right back out, her thighs parting instantly. When Korra acquiesces, leaning in to capture Kuvira’s lips in a slow kiss at the same time she pushes in again, Kuvira releases a shaky moan, clenched all tight and hot and wet around Korra. “Like that one,” Korra breathes. “Do it again.”

Kuvira doesn’t let Korra pull away from the kiss, curling a hand around the back of her neck and keeping her close, licking into her as she rocks down to meet Korra’s languid thrusts. But then she has to take a breath, and the deep, needy rasp of her next moan sends a live wire of want through Korra’s body. They stayed locked that way for a while, Korra shifting more fully on top of Kuvira, skin sliding against skin, her hand working busily between them as Kuvira stretches beneath her, knuckles white as they clench in the bars of Korra’s headboard. Korra feels absolutely ravenous, and can’t decide what she wants more: to keep kissing Kuvira until she loses all sense of whose mouth belongs to whom; to move down to flick her tongue against a hardened nipple, over and over, until Kuvira cries out, arching upwards for more; to alternate soft, barely-there caresses and purposeful strokes, bringing Kuvira close to careening to the edge before pulling back, concealing a smile at Kuvira’s frustrated moan in flushed skin. So she does it all, greedy and uncaring. The rain is pounding harder than ever, the black sky outside Korra’s double windows illuminated every so often with flashes of lightning, and inside they’re both covered in a light sheen of sweat, completely lost in each other.

Kuvira mumbles something that Korra doesn’t catch, and by the time Korra looks up questioningly, shaking her hair out of her face, Kuvira’s biting her lip, eyes clenched tightly shut. “Hmm?”

Kuvira huffs, her head falling back in surrender as Korra slowly spreads her fingers inside. “Just, please—” She growls as Korra pulls out again, reaches out to grab her wrist, push her fingers back inside. Korra complies, just letting Kuvira direct the pace, watching the long, soft lines of her neck as she turns to gasp into the pillow, watching her belly tighten as she chases her own orgasm, watching the corded muscles in her arms as she grips the headboard even tighter. “Korra…”

Korra is vaguely aware of her own excitement streaking down her thighs but can’t focus on anything beyond Kuvira, determined to watch her lose control. “Will you let me fuck you?” she leans down to ask quietly into Kuvira’s ear, licking up the lobe, thinking of the contents of her hidden drawer, hoping her half-formed suspicions are correct. Kuvira chokes out a laugh, and it’s not a no.

“Is that not what you’re doing?”

“No, I mean…” Korra shifts back into Kuvira’s eyeline, running a hand down her flexing stomach, sweeping a thumb across her mound. “I have a, um.”

_“Oh.”_ Kuvira’s expression doesn’t change significantly, but the way her cunt immediately tightens around Korra’s fingers says it all. Korra smirks down at her, pulling a deep red flush to the surface of Kuvira’s skin, and she’s fucking done teasing. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Kuvira nods shakily, her hair wild and sticking to her face, mouth falling open as Korra fucks into her harder, rubbing small circles against her clit. 

_“Yes,_ yes, keep—don’t stop—”

“I won’t. Look at me.” And Korra is rewarded with those green eyes gazing up at her as Kuvira gasps and shoves upwards, clenching wildly, loud, hoarse cries spilling from her mouth as Korra works her through her release. And then she can’t help it, Kuvira is just too _much_ and she can’t wait—she pulls her fingers out and tastes them before sliding them between her own legs, overcome, needing relief right now. Kuvira is still panting as she looks down at Korra’s moving hand, the corners of her mouth sliding into an exhausted smile before she pulls Korra down for a hungry, openmouthed kiss.

“Come for me?” Kuvira murmurs against her lips, and Korra can’t do anything but feel it build and then topple, gasping a sob into Kuvira’s neck as she follows, tingling and spent. Kuvira wraps her arms around Korra’s back, brushing her hair back and kissing her forehead, and it's everything, absolutely everything, the delicious sensation of simply melting into each other, their earlier passion slowing to just this: gentle breaths, in and out. 

Sleep takes them eventually, and the rain slows to a drizzle, steady and constant beneath the waxing moon.

//

Korra drifts out of a placid dream to the languid scratch of fingers in her hair, gaining slow awareness of the warm skin beneath her cheek, the arm cradling her back, the long legs pressed against hers. She sighs and shifts slightly, feeling the tickle of long hair as Kuvira turns in her direction, her chest rising and falling slowly.

“Awake?” she mumbles, her voice sleepy and soft. Korra rubs one foot against Kuvira’s, moving her nose slowly along the curve of her shoulder.

“Mm-mm.” She feels Kuvira shake in quiet laughter and smiles, eyes still closed, before sleep drags her back under.

//

Hours later, when sunlight pours in through the windows, pulling Korra from slumber, Kuvira’s still out, a lovely weight against Korra’s back. She slides gingerly out of Kuvira’s heavy embrace and sits, turning back to look down at her. They’d kicked the top cover off the bed last night, so she’s gloriously bare against the dark sheets, curled onto her side, one arm still outstretched in Korra’s direction. Her hair is a riotous spill against Korra’s pillow, her face calm in its repose, eyelashes casting slight shadows against her cheeks. Korra is so tempted to touch, to trace the path of her curves, from her shoulder to the gentle valley of her hip, back up the rise of her ass and down her thigh and calf, before beginning the slow journey back up again. She’s so lost in her reverie that she misses the way Kuvira’s eyes blink slowly open, and she smiles sheepishly when she finally meets that piercing gaze, knowing and fond.

“Morning,” Korra offers, and Kuvira starts to reply, then yawns. “Hungry?”

Kuvira nods, closing her eyes briefly as she stretches, several bones popping as she does. “What time is it?”

Korra shrugs, glancing over at the small clock on her nightstand but still feels too fuzzy in the head to put much effort into reading it. “I don’t know. Does it matter?” 

Scrubbing her hands through her hair, Kuvira snorts, yawns again. They’d been purposeful in planning this trip, making triple and quadruple sure that no obligations would come knocking—as much as they could control—so they could finally fully relax. “I guess not.” She settles back down with her arms still thrown over her head, not the least bit ashamed of her nakedness, taking in Korra’s seated position. “Were you going somewhere?”

“I miiiiight have had plans for breakfast in bed,” she responds, feeling suddenly silly about it, for some reason. Kuvira raises a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“Can you even cook?”

“Excuse me,” Korra shoots back, affronted, “I think I can handle some breakfast.” She tries to maintain her annoyed expression when Kuvira slithers closer, brows narrowed in playful suspicion as she presses her face into Korra's hip. “Oh right, you’re a picky eater, huh?”

“Some would call it that.”

“Challenge accepted. You stay right there,” Korra orders, finally giving into the urge to bend and press a kiss to Kuvira’s lips. “Okay?”

“Hurry up.”

//

Korra tries, but isn’t fast enough, evidently. She chuckles when arms slide around her waist, teeth closing gently on her earlobe. “Thought you agreed to stay put.”

“I lied,” Kuvira retorts mockingly, then peers over Korra’s shoulder to look down at the pan, rubbing her mouth against Korra's skin, displacing the collar of her robe. “Smells good.”

“I told you!” Korra can practically _hear_ Kuvira’s eyes rolling at her gloating, so she turns to capture her lips in a kiss, which turns into another, and then another. And then there’s the smell of burning food, so she has to throw it out and start all over again, but it’s worth it for Kuvira’s laugh, even if it's at her expense.

“Where are your plates?” Kuvira asks later, and Korra points, then does a double take.

“Is that mine?” Kuvira closes the cabinet door and turns, coming back over to place the plates beside the stove. She’s in an old, faded grey tank top that’s been stretched out over the years, both too long and too short to wear in public, the deep V exposing too much to be decent, not to mention the way it _just_ covers Korra’s ass. Kuvira’s about a half inch taller, so it’s an even more mouthwatering situation. 

Kuvira nods, moving in to inspect Korra’s handiwork, as if not trusting her to keep from burning their food again. _“Someone_ told me not to bother with many clothes for this trip.”

“That person sounds smart.” Korra turns off the heat, moves the pan, and then turns to crowd Kuvira against the countertop, tugging gently on her long braid until her head tilts obediently, further exposing the patchwork of small bruises dotted across her neck and chest. “Hmm, that’s pretty.”

Kuvira has this way of looking at Korra that pivots between gentle disbelief and wry amusement, and Korra doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of it. “Pretty?”

“Mmhmm,” Korra murmurs, going in for another kiss, gratified when Kuvira pulls her in immediately, fingers sliding beneath her robe to scratch gently at her sides. It’s all so damn good; it's perfect, even: the warm light beaming in from the windows, the occasional chirp of birdsong, and the seemingly endless stretch of hours before them as their lips meet and separate over and over, punctuated with soft sighs. With nothing and no one to object if Korra wants to just savor the particular way Kuvira’s breath quickens when Korra sucks on her tongue; the way she clutches at the edges of the countertop behind her when Korra slides one strap over and down Kuvira's shoulder to expose a breast before bending to suck a nipple into her mouth; the way she lets out a breathless little laugh when Korra kneels right there on the cool kitchen tile to sling Kuvira's leg over her shoulder, moving the small strip of her underwear aside for quicker access.

“Your windows are open,” Kuvira points out, looking down at Korra challengingly, chest heaving, cheeks flushed with anticipation.

“You didn’t worry about that last night,” Korra reminds her, and has her first lingering, unhurried taste of the day before Kuvira can come up with a response.

//

“So the premiere and everything wasn’t too weird?” Korra asks a while later, once they’ve cleared their plates of their first and second helpings. “I mean, we don’t _have_ to have a double date with Wu and Mako this trip, but we’ll probably see, um—”

Kuvira finishes her glass of water and sets it down, giving Korra a knowing glance. “I don’t have any problem being around Asami.”

“Oh! Well. Good, because—”

“In fact, we even caught up a bit last night.” Kuvira scoots her chair out to stand, gestures to Korra’s empty glass. “I’m getting more, do you want some?”

Korra blinks, shaking her head. “Wh—I mean, yes, please. You...caught up? When, exactly?” It doesn’t escape her notice how comfortable Kuvira already seems in her space, but her mind is currently too preoccupied to fully appreciate it.

“You were talking to Zhu Li, I think,” Kuvira shrugs as she pours, then looks up at Korra, amusement dancing in her eyes. “She actually said you would look a bit like you were trying to lay an egg when I told you we’d talked. Who knew how right she would be.”

Korra flushes, tries to rearrange her features. “Okay, rude.” 

Kuvira makes her way back over and sets the refilled glasses on the table, choosing to forego her seat in favor of straddling Korra’s lap. “We mostly just discussed how loudly you snore— _ow!”_

“That’s not funny,” Korra grouses, pulling Kuvira closer as she shakes with laughter. “This is what I get for putting my ex _and_ current girlfriend in a room with too much free alcohol.” She doesn’t even realize what she’d said until Kuvira leans back slowly, raising a questioning eyebrow. She can feel her face heat up, but Kuvira’s total lack of visible panic or consternation is encouraging. Still: “Well, I suppose that should have been a question.”

Kuvira just stares at her a second longer, then leans in trail her lips up Korra's jaw, clearly holding back a laugh. Her arms loop around the back of Korra's neck as she speaks. “Don’t strain yourself, Avatar.”

“So...that’s a yes?”

Kuvira’s heated kiss is a more than sufficient response.

**Author's Note:**

> let's talk about how tricky it is to buy a new str*p in republic city when you're the goddamn avatar


End file.
